


First Contacting

by f_fandom



Series: Jim and Spock One-shots [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom James T. Kirk, Compliant to Either Star Trek TOS or AOS, First Contact, Implied Sexual Content, James T. Kirk Has Issues, Jealous Spock (Star Trek), M/M, Married James T. Kirk/Spock, Non-Consensual Touching, One Shot Collection, Past Abuse, Protective Spock (Star Trek), Self-Worth Issues, Starfleet, T'hy'la, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29323626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_fandom/pseuds/f_fandom
Summary: An away mission for First Contact becomes an issue when Jim is taken advantage of and Spock intervenes. See tags.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Jim and Spock One-shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153928
Comments: 11
Kudos: 95





	First Contacting

**Author's Note:**

> This will be the first in a series of one-shots all about Jim and Spock and their relationship while in Starfleet. Some may have multiple parts. I will try to always provide some beginning notes as to when within the series that one-shot occurs. (Ex. a one-shot of them in the past when to do some Oblivious Spock and Jim scenes.)
> 
> I love angst and Hurt Jim and Protective Spock and all that comes along with it--from minor accidents to captured rescues. I also love exploring Bottom Jim and Top Spock and sub/dom, so there may be a few PWP one-shots in here as well. I will always provide tags for extreme depictions. But basically, these two are extreme characters and extra extreme when together LOL, so here we go.
> 
> If you have any ideas of a story you'd like to see me cover with them, let me know! And check out my Bookmarks for some amazing Jim/Spock works and writers I love.

Spock set right to scanning the environment with his tricorder the moment he materialized on the planet's surface. The environment, as they'd predicted, was rocky and dusty in terrain. A deep red that reminded Spock of sunsets he'd witnessed on Vulcan as a child. His mother enjoyed painting them, and Spock often stood beside her on the veranda to observe her work. It frustrated him that she deviated from what she saw and could not replicate the image exactly, instead favoring what she described as "artistic inspiration." Now, more than ever, such memories came to him.

Concerned hesitation pressed at his mind, and Spock glanced to see Jim looking back at him. He and the rest of the landing party had begun moving down the hill to survey the area while he stood there. Spock blinked at his own tricorder readings and hurried to hasten. He sent waves of reassurance through the bond at Jim's concern until he saw his brow ease. He hated seeing worry of any kind line Jim's face.

"How far are we from the coordinates the Xandarians gave us?" he asked Spock.

"Not far, Captain." Spock pointed west toward a clearing of trees. "20.6 yards."

Doctor McCoy walked behind Ensign Lars. He shielded his eyes even though there was no sun at present and the land sat in a strange contrast of hues. Lars, who was eager for her first landing party, looked back and realized to wait. When they were all caught up, McCoy continued staring around him. He pulled at the collar of his uniform.

"How can it be so goddamn hot when it's so cloudy? Worse than Savannah in August."

"You should feel right at home then, Bones," Jim said. 

As they approached the clearing by a large perimeter of trees, they hesitated. The foliage of dark purples and blues made the forest as dark inside as if it was night. Any natural light that came through the leaves helped only to illuminate the shades of the leaves and the branches that seemed too thin to hold them all. As they watched and Spock scanned, people emerged carefully but confidently from where they'd been hidden by the shadows. The Xandarians had skin that was colored similarly to the Andorians, but a deeper blue. Their hair was long and straight, and they themselves stood tall and nimble. Eyes larger than humans' peered at them curiously. The one with whom Jim had spoken came forward. His navy hair draped behind him, tied loosely at his shoulders. He wore a simple but elegant sleeveless tunic of dark gray that reached the ground, along with an extremely long silver chain necklace that Spock supposed must have been wrapped at least a dozen times around the lithe neck. The other Xandians were similarly dressed, but in more informal knee-length garments and simple, if any, jewelry. The leader, who had called himself Seelan, stopped a few feet in front of Jim and bowed slightly. 

Jim returned the gesture and smiled. It was a softer version of the Kirk grin that Spock had witnessed charm rooms of dignitaries everywhere. Seelan copied him and tried to smile as well, showing teeth the same shade as their skin. Spock continued to covertly scan their surroundings as Jim introduced himself and their party. Seelan, he watched most carefully. The thin figure did not seem overly impressive physically, but Spock knew not to mistake it for the rod-like strength he could see evident in the alien's limbs every time he moved. Niceties continued and Spock observed Jim with secret pride. Jim was always nervous about First Contacts, about diplomacy gatherings at all. But he hid it well under a veneer of suave confidence he used to guide and even manipulate those he addressed when necessary. His way with words and his gentle manner made the practice seem effortless, but Spock knew that as much as it was for the part he had to play, it stemmed from Jim's incredible sincerity to learn about new cultures and share information.

The Xandarians had begun retreating into the woods, sensing that the introductions were finishing, and soon Seelan was leading the four of them along a path that had been inscrutable before, but became clearly marked once they were on it. No one was behind them, Spock noticed. Only alongside and in front. Seelan walked to Jim's left and spoke with him, his voice low and hesitant through the Universal Translator. McCoy and Lars were on the other side of the path. A few of the Xandarians enjoyed turning to look at McCoy, whisper something to each other, and then giggle. Lars soon began laughing with them and McCoy did his professional best to seem amicable. Spock stayed close to Jim on the right and discreetly placed his forefinger and middle finger against Jim's. Gratefulness bloomed in the corner of Jim's mind for him even while he remained focused on conversing with Seelan. Jim had introduced Spock as his First Officer and mate, but Spock still did not want to draw unprofessional attention.

A large low table suddenly opened up a new clearing that many of the Xandarians began gathering around. It had been prepared beforehand with food and drink of various kinds. In the trees nearby, there were houses marked intermittently. Plain and simple structures, but well-constructed. In front of each one, a campfire was set, seeming to mark a component of significance for family and community gathering. The long table they were seated at now, made of wood and polished ornately, added to the communal culture. Seelan sat near the front of the table and indicated for the four of them to do likewise. 

"You, Captain, sit by myself you must." Seelan opened his arms to the chair at his right. He nodded and smiled and blinked his large eyes, and when Jim sat, he looked down the long stretch of the table and motioned for everyone else to now sit. Seelan's incredibly long fingers touched Jim on the shoulder, petting. Both Jim and Spock flinched, but Jim recovered faster with his smile. All around them, conversation hummed and utensils scraped at plates.

"Oh! Right!" McCoy stood up from his seat across the table and came around toward Jim with his medical bag. He brandished a hypo and knelt beside Jim to administer it in his neck.

"That should help in case you eat anything we don't even know you're allergic to."

"What has happened?" Seelan leaned close. He seemed afraid, his eyes wide. He opened and closed his mouth with a childlike innocence of confusion. His hand stroked his own shoulder in a move that seemed self-soothing. 

"What is this? Is this...medicinal? Why is it?"

"I am fine, I assure you," Jim said. He smiled and held still as Seelan leaned closer to see what McCoy had done.

"Absolutely." McCoy made no move to let Seelan examine the hypospray, as per protocol, but he also wisely did not rush to hide it away. "This is quite regular. The Captain here is allergic to many variants of substances, both known and unknown. The medicine is to prevent him having an allergic reaction to anything here that his body may not be used to."

"Our food? You think your Captain Kirk our food would poison after so carefully prepared was it?"

"No, no, that isn't it at all." Jim smiled harder. His register became firm, but desperately reassuring, fearing an inter-species insult of communication. An insulted party in First Contact would have him meeting with Admiral Beckett for certain. McCoy stepped back and slowly returned to his seat to give space, all while keeping his eyes sharp on Seelan and his interaction.

"I mean you no disrespect in any way," Jim promised. "Nor does Doctor McCoy. Or any of us. We are immeasurably grateful to have a seat at your table. This medicine has nothing to do with you, I assure you."

Jim reached his hand and placed it in front of Seelan. Seelan's fingers blindly reached for it, the customary tactile form of reassurance Spock was now familiar with from observing the others. But before he could touch, Jim brought his hand to his own chest, mirroring the move.

"It's because of me, not you. I get sick very easily and this helps me. That is all. Please, would you tell me more about this land and how you built your homes here?"

Seelan did not seem wholly satisfied at Jim's change of subject. "Sick?" he whispered over and over, shaking his head in sympathy. He stroked Jim's shoulder, rubbing the thick muscle to comfort. Spock stiffened and sat straighter. Seelan soon let go of Jim and began gesturing to the trees. Spock released the breath he'd been holding and turned his attention to the vegetarian cuisine on his plate. The drink also, seemed fermented, not unlike wine. He respectfully sampled a significant portion and observed the others at the table, all while listening for any further trouble in Jim's conversation. "It's all diplomacy, Spock," Jim had once told him. "Doesn't matter what I'm doing--they're watching me and I have to pass the test. I can't mess up."

All the Xandarians were communicating naturally in small groups and seemed vastly familiar with each other. Occasionally they glanced up toward the landing party, but not often. McCoy and Lars had already struck up engagements with several different Xandarians who had moved closer to interact. Spock marveled at their ease in it. He slowly glanced to his right at the group of Xandarians who seemed to be in their teenage years. They had been watching him and when he met their eyes, they froze with food halfway to their mouths and began laughing. Spock raised an eyebrow and returned their curiosity by turning to face them more directly. The one closest to him was female. He tapped the outside of his wrist, indicating the bracelet on hers. She looked at the deep red jewelry as if seeing it for the first time. Then she glanced at the others and shrugged before pulling the beads off her hand and slipping them around Spock's. Spock froze at their contact and at the warm bracelet now around his wrist.

"No. No, you misunderstand. I do not wish..." He tried to remove the bracelet and place on the table, but she stopped him and patted his hand. She smiled and pointed at him. Spock sighed and wondered what to do. They all laughed at his defeat and continued talking in their native tongue. One of the male Xandarians beside her sported several similar bracelets of his own. He pulled one off and tossed it to the girl. She looked at him as if to say, "see?" 

Indeed. Everything seemed shared. Spock knew from what studies they'd been able to do of the Xandarians that individualized family units were fluid in interpretation, and that the culture was largely polyamorous. Spock wondered if that was why they had not seen any designated partner associated with Seelan. 

Almost at the thought, Seelan rose from the table. Many other people followed and some began leaving for other activities. Some stayed and continued talking and eating. It seemed as if they were heading deeper into the forest and just a few seconds later, musical wood instruments and strings sounded up. Many people cheered and ran to the music. Seelan motioned for Jim to rise and join him. Spock caught McCoy's eye and he stood cautiously, silently beside Jim, intent to follow. Seelan smiled and bowed nervously.

"May I you please, a word Captain you with alone? Discuss further matters."

Jim hesitated a moment and nodded. "Spock," he said. "Stay with McCoy and Lars. Why don't you ask them what they were all discussing?"

He clapped Spock on the arm, but squeezed his bicep. Reassurance warmed Spock's mind and he nodded, understanding. Spock held his fist behind his back in his typical stance and bore his eyes into Seelan's back as they moved through the trees toward the large gathering. He disliked how close in proximity Seelan stood to Jim. He resisted the urge to run forward and insert himself between them.

"Jealous much?" McCoy asked, having come to stand at his side. 

"You are mistaken, Doctor."

"Oh, come off it." McCoy drank more of the beverage from the table. "I thought you were gonna break his hand when he kept touching Jim. Damn hypo business. That could have gone badly, Spock."

"I am aware. Jim, however, was expertly able to diffuse the situation, for which I am glad."

"Yeah, you and me both. I'm glad Lars is here. They seem a lot more interested in her than me, and I'm glad her sociology background is working to buffer things. Xandar is still a lot more primitive than we expected. I wonder how Starfleet will like it."

Spock shook his head. "I do not think they are as primitive as they would like us to believe. They possess technology, but I believe Seelan and perhaps a chosen few, are the only ones who utilize it. They do not seem overly concerned, however, with incorporating it into their daily lifestyle."

"Then why that mess with the hypospray? Have they never seen standard medical equipment?"

"I believe Seelan was more distressed at the need and timing for Jim's medication, rather than the hypospray itself. The disturbing connection between their food possibly harming him, their distinguished guest, was no doubt offensive. Perhaps you should have administered the hypospray before leaving the Enterprise."

McCoy's neck turned red and his drink shook in his hand. Spock was tempted to remove it before it spilled on them both. He opened and closed his mouth in amusing similarity to Seelan and then sighed through his nose. "You're right."

"I'm sorry, Doctor?"

"I said 'you're right,' you damn hobgoblin. Jim was so stressed about this mission that I honestly didn't think about it. I always have it on me in case of a classic Jim Kirk emergency, but I didn't think there would be eating involved and I didn't want to risk him going into anaphylactic shock in front of everyone before he needed it. Where'd they go anyway?"

Spock pursed his lips. "Jim told us to remain here."

McCoy poked Spock in the elbow. "He told you to remain with me and Lars. Well Lars is up there and that's where I'm headed. So come along. I'm about ready to call it a day and head back to the ship. Goddamn it I can't believe I actually said that I want to go back to the ship."

Spock, too, was ready to finish their business with the Xandarians and return to the Enterprise. Ever since seeing Seelan touch Jim the first time, he'd been uneasy. The bond had screamed at him to do just as Doctor McCoy had said and break Seelan's arm. But he'd tampered it with the conceit that inter-species cultural exchanges demanded respect whenever possible if it did not affect their wellbeing. Spock had no choice but to allow Seelan his cultural mannerisms or risk offending him just as easily as McCoy nearly had. It was up to Jim to decide what he would allow. Spock's mind thundered, though, as Jim nearly always gave of himself for others, sacrificing himself in what Jim would call "just another day in Starfleet." 

The Xandarian's music was pleasant enough in its lively tempo. Their dancing and jumping, however, bordered on sensual in Spock's opinion. Their hips rolled close to each other's, and personal distance seemed nonexistent. Their arms traded waves throughout the air and fingers interlocked as partners were passed on and around. A dizzying display of blue and gray, their garments and hair flowing freely. Spock's hands clenched behind him. And there, across on the other side of the enormous gathering, were Jim and Seelan. Jim stood facing the others, watching them with his arms crossed over his chest. Seelan was close beside him, facing the side as he spoke in Jim's ear above the noise. Jim's face showed no reaction. But Spock reached through the bond toward Jim's practiced stoicism, ever-present even in his mind during mission exchanges. He felt rolling uneasiness. 

Without waiting to see if McCoy was following him, Spock moved along the perimeter of the dancers. He was stopped occasionally by people bumping in his way, unaware and uncaring of his apparent need for haste and inability to join their festivities. He was still so far from Jim. So many people and trees in the way.

"Can you see him?" McCoy hollered.

And Spock couldn't anymore. Panicking, he scanned the crowds, searching for Jim's golden tunic among the dark colors. His heart jumped in his side. He reached for Jim's mind, but met only calm. Forced calm. A calm drawn up to quell fear. 

"Mr. Spock! Doctor McCoy!" 

Lars freed herself from the group of Xandarians she'd been with. They kept smiling and trying to pull her back to the dance. Her hair had fallen from its clip and stuck to her neck in sweat. She gasped as she reached them. McCoy grabbed her arms to steady her and leaned close to see her face.

"What in all hell, Lars? What's the matter with you? Hold still." 

She pushed his hands away from where he’d been trying to look at her pupils. She grasped Spock's forearm, shaking her head in hurry.

"You have to go find Captain Kirk!"

"Why?" McCoy asked. He held his scanner in front of her. "He's with Seelan. They're talking."

"I know!" Lars shouted. "And no they're not!"

"What do you mean?" Spock demanded. She jumped a little when she looked at him, but he didn't care if he was frightening her. "Is the Captain in danger?"

"Cultural exchange," Lars said. She spoke quickly over her hurried breath. "I figured it out. The touching you noticed. It's completely innocent to them, but it's more than that. Everything is shared here. It is tradition for leaders to share...each other whenever entering new agreements. It's seen as a celebration. The visiting leader must submit to the host or risk serious offence. I know Captain Kirk can look out for himself, but he doesn't realize what Seelan's really after--"

Spock was already gone, running past Xandarians, ignoring the rush of their music growing louder against the blood pounding in his ears. If Seelan was harming Jim, touching Jim. NO. He reached for Jim desperately in the bond, trying to get any indication of where he was. He slid to a stop at the last place he'd seen them standing, but there were buildings and homes in all directions through the forest. He placed his feet where Jim had been, closing his eyes and trying to center himself. He breathed Jim in and everything else out. Felt Jim's presence in the place where he now stood. Quieted the music and the noise. Breathed in Jim's scent. Heard his voice. 

Spock tilted his head, eyes still closed. He replayed the scene, following the bond to let him see. Jim standing here, looking across the sea of people. Looking for Spock. Seelan's hand on his shoulder. Moving down his arm. _There's been a misunderstanding. I cannot--_ The voice in his ear when he tried to move. _Just come. This important most is._ Long fingers on the small of his back. Followed. Led away...

His eyes snapped open and saw McCoy and Lars running his way, only now catching up. Spock looked down a path to the left. That way.

"Stay here," he told them. He could hear the steel in his voice but was still not surprised when Doctor McCoy grabbed his arm.

"The hell I will. If Jim's in there--"

"I will find Jim. You must remain here to avoid the appearance of a disturbance, which you, Ensign Lars, may have already accomplished. We are still in the middle of a First Contact mission and the less people involved in this confrontation, the better. For Jim."

He left McCoy swearing and grinding his heel in the dirt and rushed through the trees toward the several small houses. He stopped by the first one, listening. As panicked as he was, First Contact was still occurring, and breaking all the private property he could find was not a luxury he could afford. Nothing inside. He ran silently to the next house. Nothing. He listened harder, not wanting to lose anything as he continued. His fear and horror grew. Then, even before he reached the next structure, he heard furniture scraping the ground. And...

"Please don't do this. Think about what's happening out there. That's what I'm here to do. There's been a grave misunderstanding."

Seelan laughed and it sounded wrong through the Translator. "Your performance quite amusing is. You have to perform to me not anymore. Come."

“No. Stop!”

Spock ground his teeth together and blinked to clear his vision. Finally he made it to the door and broke it open so that it split in half. He crouched in a stance and drew his phaser on Seelan. Coiled, ready to spring should he make a move. Spock glared and heaved deep breaths, not from exertion, but rage. Seelan let go of Jim’s waist and fell against the wall, clearly terrified at Spock's eyes. 

"I--"

"Do. Not. Speak," Spock whispered. "Captain..."

"It's all right, Spock."

Jim's gentle voice and his own judgment that Seelan was not moving anywhere anytime soon allowed him to finally let his eyes off the alien and look at Jim. His mate stood against the other wall. Unharmed. Beautiful and whole and unharmed. But shaken. And then he smoothed down his uniform and adjusted his sleeves, and the fact that it had been made in disarray at all...A high moan, almost like a whine, left Spock's throat. He took a giant breath and Jim just smiled. Not the diplomatic smile. Not even the smile he gave the bridge crew. His smile. Spock's smile reserved just for him. It was a smile that said everything was okay. That he was safe. Content now that Spock was here. And even though the smile tremored now on Jim's face, Spock closed his eyes and sighed. Inch by inch, he let the tension seep from his body.

"Now. You may speak," he said slowly. "Explain yourself."

Seelan stood straight and wrung his blue hands together in front of his chest. His long hair swayed as he shook his head back and forth. Jim walked carefully to stand beside Spock but still slightly in front. Seelan gestured at Jim and his voice shook through the Translator.

"You must him share. Tradition and ceremony. No harm to him come. A time of pleasure. Understand I do not."

"It's as I was trying to tell you," Jim said calmly, and oh how could he be so calm when Spock still struggled to even breathe... "I understand that in your culture it is acceptable and even celebratory to touch each other freely. In my culture, it is a violation of individual autonomy to do so without consent. I was not playing or trying to participate, as you persisted that I was. The only one who is allowed to touch me in that manner is my husband. Spock."

Jim touched his arm. Spock could feel Jim’s entire pulse racing through the contact, the tremor in his fingers as they touched, no, grasped at Spock's bicep. The sleeve rolled where Jim gripped the material. Seelan watched this and then blinked wide eyes at Spock. He was seeing, but still not fully understanding. 

"You--you share his body will not?" He seemed hurt and it was only this that kept Spock from crossing the space between them and pinning him up the wall by his long neck. Jim's breath caught and he tried to recenter himself. 

"I will not," Spock rasped. "It is only because this is a First Contact and you acted in clear ignorance instead of malicious intent that this will be deemed a cultural misunderstanding and nothing more. Still. You have physically assaulted my Captain and, had I not arrived in time, would have forced him to engage in sexual intercourse without his consent. This cannot be tolerated."

"We must leave," Jim said in conclusion. "At once. I do not wish for there to be lasting ill will between our cultures, and I hope we would be welcome to visit in the future. But we must return to our...our home."

Seelan held his head high and poised, though his eyes still blinked and wandered like he was thinking many things at once and trying to reconcile them, as well as remember his role as leader to act confidently. He opened his mouth and then closed it. He nodded several times and did not move until Spock had ushered Jim outside. A few paces away, McCoy and Lars stood looking like they'd been only a few minutes from breaking in themselves. At seeing Jim, they both deflated and McCoy glared at Jim, wisely keeping silent but nodding his head in what Spock had come to learn was a "we're going to talk later" look. 

The goodbyes were strained and hurried, and most of the Xandarians were still too busy dancing and talking to notice them leave. Spock hastened the walk back to the beam-down coordinates, thinking of nothing but removing Jim from this planet at once. He was crushed under the weight of guilt the bond hurled at him for not intervening sooner. For failing to protect his mate. For nearly letting him be claimed by another. He hardly noticed when Jim called for them to be beamed back. He was the first one off the transporter pad, Jim in tow, grasping his elbow to steer. 

"I would demand you stop by Sickbay for a scan, but I know better," McCoy said. Jim sent him a grateful smile and let Spock's hand support him as they walked briskly to their quarters. 

Once the door closed them inside, the veneer broke. Jim's knees buckled and he began tearing at the collar of his uniform like he couldn’t breathe. He ripped it off with shaking hands and yanked at his pant legs while Spock wordlessly entered the bathroom and started the shower. Water. An indulgence. One he would see Jim got whenever possible. And right now...His own hands shook as he removed his uniform and the red bracelet, which he considered crushing, but instead placed carefully on the sink. After breathing calmly for a moment, he returned to the main room. Jim sat naked on the floor, his armor of clothes scattered around him. He braced himself up on the floor and Spock could feel even through the bond the beginnings of panic. 

He rushed to Jim's side and scooped him up from the floor in one fluid motion. Jim tried to protest, seeking closer contact and then trying to distance. "I feel like him. Don't touch me."

Spock growled and threw them both into the water to stand directly under it. Its hot pressure made Jim cry out, but then he leaned into it. Spock turned him so that Jim's back was against his chest and he could feel the full weight of the water cascading over his body. Jim leaned against him fully and closed his eyes, his face contorted with unshed tears. Spock grabbed the shampoo and rubbed it in his hands while he too closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself. This was not about him. This was not about his anger or his guilt. This was about Jim. And what Jim needed was comfort. Caring. Tender. Protecting.

Jim moaned as Spock worked the shampoo through his hair, scratching his scalp. Jim raised his hands to his hair and joined. Spock let him. Jim took lathers of shampoo and rubbed it furiously against his chest and stomach. Spock guided him closer under the water.

"Close your eyes, ashayam." He rinsed the shampoo from Jim's hair and wiped his eyes. The dark blonde locks plastered down his forehead and over his ears in an adorable fashion that Spock would have commented on at any other time. Instead, he let Jim push the hair back over his head and behind his ears. Jim opened his mouth and water flicked from his lips. He had to squint to keep the water from his eyes. Drops ran over his bottom lip and down his neck, over his chest, and down the front of his body as he took repeated deep breaths. He was watching Spock, just breathing. His thoughts were a harsh rush. Spock knew he was analyzing everything that had happened as well as his approach to it and now he was finding ways to justify what had happened and why it was, as he often said, "no big deal," when inside he wanted to scream until his throat tore. 

"Cease," Spock whispered. "Cease this. Calm, my t'ly'a. It is all over. You are safe."

He gathered a copious amount of Jim’s favorite “mountain fresh” body wash and paused with his hands over Jim’s skin.

“May I?”

“Please. Yes.”

Jim pulled Spock’s hands to touch him and that was all Spock needed. He massaged body wash into Jim's skin and continued speaking gently, distracting him with soft words and shushing while he kneaded the tight muscles. First he washed Jim’s arms, working his hands and wrists and focusing on his own steady breathing not to become aroused. Jim did not tease or move his fingers. Spock rubbed the muscles in his forearms and up, massaging his thick biceps, behind, gripping and caressing. He focused on Jim's left shoulder, scratching gently and bringing his face down to cover with his open mouth the place Seelan had touched. Jim whimpered and Spock hummed against his skin. His other arm snaked around Jim's tight waist and held him tight against his chest while he massaged soap up and down his mate's body. He drove arousal from his mind as best he could as he focused solely on washing Jim. Tending to him. His fingers pressed circles into Jim's abdomen. Jim flinched and Spock’s hand slipped over muscles and wet skin. Then Jim brought his hand up to Spock's and guided it to his right side, pressing him to cleanse there.

Spock removed himself from being plastered against Jim's back, afraid that he would growl or make some sort of noise that Jim would feel and be upset by. He turned and knelt on the shower tiles to put his face level with Jim's hips, placing Jim's hands on his shoulders to rest. Blinking furiously, he let the hot water pound down on him while he held Jim’s waist and rubbed soap again and again along his side, across his stomach, his hips. His hand rose higher and kneaded into Jim's ribs, his pectoral muscles. Jim kept his eyes closed as he leaned against the shower wall and let Spock work at his broad chest.

Silently, Spock took Jim's hips and turned him so that he faced the wall. He got more soap and massaged it into every bit of Jim's back while Jim's hands braced the wall. From the nape of his neck all the way down below the dip of muscle at the small of his back. Spock stalled with this task, leaning his forehead against Jim's hip while his hands felt their way up Jim’s spine. He knew every inch of Jim's skin, would know it blinded. As Jim continued breathing deep and calm, his back rose under Spock’s hands. In and out, he breathed. Quickly and more efficiently, Spock rubbed body wash over Jim's backside and down his legs, running his hands up and down powerful thighs and calves. Above him, Jim moaned and arched up on his feet. Spock kissed the back of his upper thigh and maneuvered him to turn around once more. He put Jim's hands back on his shoulders as he knelt in front of him and stared up. Jim opened his eyes and looked down at his face through the water spray.

“Are you going to do what I think you’re going to do?”

“No,” Spock said. “The other thing. Listen to me, t’yl’a.”

“Oh Spock not again.” Jim sighed and rolled his eyes.

Spock gripped his hips and and tapped the wet skin. “Jim. Look at me," he said softly. Calmly. "Do you understand that what happened today is not in any way your fault." 

Jim looked down at him for a long moment, his face devoid of emotion. Even the bond felt muted. Spock recognized the defense mechanism and waited. Then Jim nodded.

"I need to hear you say it, ashayam."

"I understand."

"Understand what?"

Jim groaned. "That it wasn't my fault."

Spock caressed Jim's hipbones with his thumbs. "Do you understand that you did not ask for it."

"I didn't...I didn't ask for it."

"That you tried to stop it and acted correctly in doing so."

"Yes, I tried to stop it!" Jim shoved his shoulders away and glared. "Did you really think I was going to just let him fuck me? Lie back and think of Starfleet? Do you think that little of me even still? I know where the line is, Spock."

Resisting temptation to surge up and wrap Jim in his arms, he breathed steadily and gripped his mate to hold him still. But not trapped. He waited until Jim was calm, but knew it wouldn't last.

"I should have intervened."

"No.” Jim pointed a finger at him. “You know you can't get all violent and possessive every time someone touches me in a way you don't like. Not when Starfleet relationships that could determine the future of an entire civilization are on the line. I have a job to do. And if it requires--"

"It. Does. Not." Now Spock stood. He squeezed Jim's shoulders and shook him slightly. "It does not require you to sacrifice your body to reach agreements or keep peace or protect others. That is your past talking to you, Jim. Before anyone treasured you. You have been used and violated and taken advantage of in so many ways that I become ill when I think on it. All those times when I was not there. But now..." 

He leaned his forehead into Jim's and took his face tenderly. "Now you are mine and I will not let you offer yourself without regard to your own safety. You do it far too often even though I try to stop you. I have to trust you, but you do not trust yourself, Jim. If you do not trust your own worth, trust that I know it. Trust that I know why you did not fight back more aggressively. I detest it, but I understand your logic."

Jim barked a laugh and nearly hit his head on the shower wall if not for Spock's quick hand. "Logic?"

Spock allowed himself to raise an eyebrow. "To you, yes. The Xandarians were completely ignorant of their actions. They believed they were honoring you and welcoming you. Pleasing you. They were not a physical danger. Not immediately. You realized the mannerisms of touch were cultural norms and did not want to insult Seelan right away by showing offense yourself. Up until the very end, you reasoned that you would stop it when it became too much, when you were confident that there was no other way to convince him you were telling the truth about your lack of consent. To you, it was hardly anything compared to other tortures you have faced. Even though you didn't want it. Even though it reminded you of times before. Even though you wanted me to stop it. Stop you. And I failed."

Jim stared, his mouth open. Spock guided the water over his body to rinse the last of the soap suds, his eyes never leaving Jim's. Jim's face crumpled and he leaned his head into Spock's shoulder. They were quiet sobs this time. Spock hoped he was letting out as much as he needed. He rubbed circles on Jim's back and Jim tightened his arms around Spock.

"I'm sorry," he rasped.

"Do not be, ashayam. As I said, it is logical to you. I understand you more than you think. Even before we were bonded. May I now show you my logic?"

Jim waited and blinked heavy eyes. Spock could not wait to dry him off and clothe him and tuck him into bed against his chest. He poured scented oil into his hands. Oil purchased on Vulcan before the end, used to mark scents, often exchanged between mates. Jim knew this. He poured the precious oil in his hand and massaged it into Jim's left shoulder. Jim sighed and let his head tip back while Spock worked in sacred silence for a moment. More oil met his stomach, his side. He flinched and then leaned into the contact. Spock's long fingers covered his skin protectively. Possessively.

"You are worthy of love and devotion and freedom purely because you exist. You care selflessly for the ones you love. You fight for them. You protect them. Your brilliance and your beauty shines for all to see. And yet you have been told and shown all your life that you are unwanted. I see this for the utter lie that it is and seek to remind you of it every day--perhaps not as well or as often as I should. I see my best friend. My soul mate and my partner. My mate. My husband. Mine to cherish and claim and protect and smother with my desire for him. I burn for you, my t’yl'a. I have bound myself to you in a way that can never be broken, and you are tied to me in that same way. You make me feel that I belong, that I matter, that I am indispensable to you as your First, as your lover, as your protector and friend. And I am Vulcan. Honor my culture before theirs, for mine is the one to which you are tied. And I treasure you with it. No one else may do this.

"I look at us and I see two people who were once so lonely by themselves, who are now stronger than ever because they have each other. Together, they are invincible. You have me to rely on, and you must practice this support, as strange a concept as it is to you who have never had it before. You can rely on me. You can trust me. You will never be alone again, so there is no point in trying to operate through life alone. It is...illogical."

While he'd spoken, Spock had finished rubbing the scented oil into every place Seelan had touched. Through his focus and Jim's exhaustion, neither of them had grown an erection while they showered, as if the bond knew they needed gentle care right now. He'd turned the water off and was now rubbing a towel gently over Jim's hair. Jim fumbled for the towel tiredly, fighting the mess of his hair. When Spock finished speaking, he uncovered Jim's head and wrapped the towel around his shoulders. Jim smiled at him--a small smile, but still his smile. He wrapped his arms around Spock's waist and pressed his body against Spock's chest hair the way Spock knew he liked. Their hips touched but still, they were content to simply touch. Jim's hair stuck every which way so that it was almost comical when his face turned serious and he searched Spock's eyes while sporting the bedhead of a teenager. 

"I love you," Jim said softly. 

And his words surged feeling through the bond, screaming it and crying it and clutching Spock for dear life like he knew he didn't want to keep letting go but he was so used to falling and he didn't know how it kept happening and he was so sorry so damn sorry cause he needed Spock and he loved Spock with everything and more and more than he could say or think because he didn't know how much love there was to give in the world or how much even existed but as much as he could find he gave and he would never stop searching for more to give even though he knew that all Spock wanted was what he already had but it was Spock and he wanted to give him the galaxy. 

And Spock didn't say, "I know." He didn't say, "I love you" in return. He said more in the way he tilted Jim's chin and kissed him slowly and sweetly. Feeling those supple lips open for him. Neither one of them pressing for more. 

Spock knew the topic was far from over, but he felt pride in reminding Jim of his worth. Of reminding himself why he needed to remind Jim more. And oh how he wanted to do nothing more.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters or names in this piece. I have seen "t'hy'la" pronounced and spelled "t'yl'a," and so I may use both throughout.
> 
> I will also stress that I do not condone ANY form of nonconsensual interactions or victim blaming.


End file.
